


One Drunk Napoleon

by IntolerantBonita



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Drunk Moriarty, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Sheriarty - Freeform, Sober Sherlock, Talking, drunk, jimlock, nothing else but talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntolerantBonita/pseuds/IntolerantBonita
Summary: Drunk James and sober Sherlock are coming back from the Christmas Eve celebrations.





	

They were still standing in front of the front doors. One Sherlock's hand was holding Jim, while another one was looking for a right key in his pocket. Jim, slightly drunk, was looking at the sky, amazed by the falling snowflakes, just like a small child.

 

"Jim, here, look here," the younger man shook the other's arm. "Watch out or I won't take you with me the next time."

  
"You don't take me anywhere anyway," he growled.

  
"So what, are you dreaming about romantic dinner with candles? You're one of the most wanted men in the whole world..."

  
"That was just a mistake of my past," he couldn't find his tongue. "But I've already changed. Everyone deserves a second chance and a dinner with good wine."

  
"I think you have enough wine in your life, haven't you?" Sherlock finally opened the door, pushing Moriarty to walk in first.

  
"Shh, you will wake up everyone!" James started hissing almost like a snake, looking around with a conspiracy look on his face. If he didn't lean his hand on the wall, he would certainly fall. But Sherlock took none of it, twisting the key even louder and placing his hand on James again.

  
"Jim, have you already forgotten that Miss Hudson sleeps at Watsons' place tonight?" he tried to push him another time but he still didn't look like moving. "C'mon, work with me and dutifully go upstairs, ok?"

 

It was their very first Christmas Eve together. Earlier, they had visited Holmes family and then they met Watsons. Unlike Miss Hudson, Mary wasn't able to persuade them to stay any longer. They were exhausted due to the number of emotions accompanying this day and they preferred to come back to their small asylum. Well - Sherlock preferred. James didn't care at all. For the first time in years, he actually celebrated Christmas and he had been worrying about everything so much, that even Sherlock decided that he needed a little bit of alcohol to reduce stress.

But "a little bit of alcohol" quickly changed to "too many glasses of wine" and Sherlock didn't predict that James would be lurching so much afterwards.

 

"Hmm, you're right," James finally murmured, slowly taking the first step.

  
"I thought you have a stronger head..." Sherlock smiled, going on stairs after his boyfriend.

  
"And now you'll rub my nose in it till the world ends?" the man exclaimed at the other's note.

  
"Of course. That'll be the first point of my family reunion's speech in 2036."

  
"Are you kidding me?" James turned around, facing Sherlock. He didn't know if Jim got offended by the mention of the story or family stuff.

  
"Maybe I'll forget about it," he tipped his head on the right side. "But, for sure, I'm not going to spend the New Year's Eve with you."

  
"So, you'll have to move somewhere else," James moved closer, whispering softly. "Because, my dear Sherlock, I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere."

  
"Oh, believe me, I will," Sherlock inhaled an odour of wine.

  
"And will you leave me alone?" James looked at the man's lips, raising his eyebrow.

  
"I won't have any other options. I have no intention of cleaning all the mess you'll do," he leant to kiss his boyfriend that didn't want to stop talking.

  
"You're so cold hearted. I thought you may make an exception for me..."

  
"No exceptions. I won't be able to wake you up the next day."

  
"I hope your little doctor and his wife will adopt me, then," he turned around again, touching up his suit.

  
"I hope they won't," Sherlock grabbed James' arm and made the man look at him. "Because you are _my_ drunk Napoleon of crime," he said, as their lips finally met.

And Moriarty lost his hope as well.


End file.
